


Sing me awake with a song about pirates (and I will try to harmonize)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Fluff, M/M, Mates, POV Derek Hale, Red String of Fate, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, The Hale Family (Teen Wolf) Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24411526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: There is a picture of two boys on the dresser in the living room of the Hale house. One of the boys is small and skinny and freckled, the other is taller and broader, with heavy eyebrows that don’t quite fit his face yet. Derek always seems to come back to that picture these days. He hasn’t seen Stiles in ages. He hasn’t played pirates in even longer.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 36
Kudos: 542





	Sing me awake with a song about pirates (and I will try to harmonize)

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic in early April somewhere, and promptly got stuck. Then I realized that the angsty direction the fic was heading in just wasn't what I wanted to write. So this happened instead. Proof that I can still write something that clocks in under 10k (not under 5k though). 
> 
> For Sterek bingo prompts: Childhood friends, reconnection, penpals, pirates
> 
> (And no, I haven't run out of The Amazing Devil lyrics yet to use as titles)

There is a picture of two boys on the dresser in the living room of the Hale house. Now, that in itself isn’t odd. Even if the boys may be, a little bit. 

One of the boys is small and skinny and freckled, the other is taller and broader, with heavy eyebrows that don’t quite fit his face yet. He might just have reached that precious double-digit status, while the other boy seems younger, perhaps eight years of age. They are both grinning in the picture, but it is hard to tell exactly what they’re looking at, as both boys wear eye-patches and are dressed head to toe in cheap party store pirate gear. 

The swords are blunt and obviously fake (fortunately), but the happiness is real. 

Derek always seems to come back to that picture these days. Just as he comes back to the chest of letters he’s been hiding at the back of his closet for almost fifteen years now. The chest that no one else was allowed to touch, because sometimes, if he opened it, the letters still carried the scent of his childhood friend. 

He hasn’t seen Stiles in ages. He hasn’t played pirates in even longer. 

Everyone grows out of childhood games, his mother tells him. Everyone loses touch with childhood friends, even though they still remember them fondly. But not everyone had Stiles Stilinski as their best friend. Not everyone had a best friend who wrote them letters for years and years after their last meeting, after Stiles’ father took his son and left, unable to live in the house he used to share with his wife. There was a grandmother somewhere on the East Coast, a fierce old lady that Stiles used to refer to as “Babcia”. Somewhere in the Hale house, there is a note in Stiles’ childhood chicken scratch handwriting, listing his grandmother’s address. 

Of course Stiles doesn’t actually live there anymore. Derek’s letters came back last time he tried, with no forwarding address. He’s lost Stiles, and all he has is the letters. 

“Oh God are you still mooning?” Laura rolls her eyes at him. “Derek, it’s been a decade at least since he last sent you a letter. It’s done. It’s over. Time to find someone else to play dress-up with, if that’s still a kink for you. I bet you could even get them into a pirate costume.” 

Derek has a twin, which is a surprise to most people. Laura is a fraternal twin, of course, so she doesn’t look that much like him at all, and she’s always had her own friends. They haven’t really shared much of anything since they shared their mother’s womb. Or so Talia Hale likes to joke to everyone who’s willing to listen - because she still lives to embarrass her children. 

“For the last time, Laura,” Derek cannot believe that he has to tell her this yet again, “I do not have a costume kink, or a pirate kink, or any one of the many crazy things you’ve accused me of. Can’t I just regret the way things turned out without you being extra about it?” 

Because he does regret it, regret getting stupidly caught up in his own drama (first with Paige dying and then with Kate almost killing his entire family) and losing track of his best and only childhood friend in the process. He was a stupid teenager who thought Stiles was too young to understand, when he was really only two years younger than Derek. The age difference had never really mattered before, but as an idiot fifteen year old, it somehow had. 

Derek doesn’t like thinking about how it’s his own fault that he lost Stiles, and that they had to move away from Beacon Hills for a few years, until the trial was finished and they got to start rebuilding the Hale house. Shit, he’s lucky they managed to save the photo albums, and that his mom had been smart enough to digitize a whole bunch of stuff they didn’t save. 

“It’s weird,” Laura turns up her nose at him, because she thinks she’s the smarter twin. “You don’t see me mournfully sighing over pictures of me and Lizzie Holden.” 

Fucking Lizzie Holden. While Derek played pirates with Stiles Stilinski, Laura and Lizzie made their Barbies marry monsters, because Ken was boring. Derek has never been particularly interested in any of Laura’s friends, but Lizzie had been around for most of his childhood. That is, until she… Wasn’t, anymore. 

“Because she turned out to be an evil boyfriend stealer,” Derek has to protest. 

“Damn right she did,” Laura is still upset, even though she’s happily engaged. “I was dating Brian and she just stole him right from under me. Yeah, under me. That’s about accurate.” 

Does anyone still care about Brian Tinney? Laura surely doesn’t, but for some reason Lizzie’s betrayal is still a big deal to her. And okay, maybe Derek understands that losing a friend due to betrayal kind of sucks (not that he and Kate had ever been anything as mundane as friends), but it was just a stupid high school relationship. And honestly, Brian wasn’t worth it, if he was happy to ruin a friendship just to get his dick wet. 

Not that Laura had seen it that way at the time. 

“You’re the worst,” Derek tells her, even though he knows she likes hearing that. 

“Thank you,” his damn twin just has to prove him right. “Now can you just get over your childhood boner for Stiles Stilinski? Jordan has this friend he’s been dying to set you up with.” 

Oh, right,  _ Jordan _ cares about who Derek sleeps with. As fucking if. 

Derek isn’t exactly friends with his sister’s fiance - he’s hardly friends with anyone, really - but he does appreciate a couple of things about the guy. One of them is the fact that he’s really good at minding his own business, a skill that Laura somehow still hasn’t mastered after over twenty-seven years of life. Derek honestly doubts she’ll ever get there, but he’s not just going to let her interfere. It’s his brotherly duty to argue with her. Plus, it’s more fun that way. 

“You’re the one who’s dying to set me up,” Derek can’t let her tell those vicious falsehoods. “Jordan is kind enough to respect my damn boundaries. And please don’t call it a childhood boner, that is disgusting and completely untrue. You pervert.” 

She is going to hate that, and Derek is glad, because getting Laura riled up will never not be fun - especially when he feels like he’s got the upper hand for once. That does not usually last very long, so he’s learned to enjoy it while he can. 

“Children,” Talia Hale knows exactly how to humble them. “Please don’t talk about childhood boners and perverts so loudly. Your uncle Peter might hear and want to join the conversation.” 

And no one wants that. 

“Alright, I can’t be here,” Laura announces. “Mom, you’re the worst.” 

Laura loves a good exit line, and so she sashays off somewhere - probably to the Sheriff’s station, where she can greatly distract her husband to be from his job. It’s a good thing they’re still waiting for the last Sheriff’s replacement, because there is no way that Jordan has been productive over the last few weeks. Laura visits the station almost daily. 

From the corner of his eye, Derek once again catches little Stiles’ eye. He smiles. 

“Still caught up in that picture, honey?” Talia just sighs, but she isn’t actually annoyed about it. 

“I just,” Derek finds himself searching for the right words to explain the pull that the picture still holds for him. “It’s Stiles. He’s twenty-five by now, and I know he probably doesn’t play pirates anymore either, but I just wonder. I wonder where he is, and what he’s doing, and what kind of man he’s become, and if he’s still got those stupid Beta gold eyes and that buzz cut.” 

Thinking of the way he used to rub Stiles’ head, because his friend’s mom had told him that it would bring him good luck… He’s pretty sure that Claudia Stilinski had been trolling them both, and they just hadn’t recognized it at that age. Sometimes he swears that he can still hear her teasing them both, her mischievous laugh echoing throughout the Stilinski house. He can still hear Stiles giggling, hiding upstairs in the closet because if he got caught he would have to go home. He knew he’d get caught, but he liked to play with wolves. 

“Derek,” his mother is almost frowning. 

That is never a good sign, not from Alpha Talia Hale. “What is it, Mom?” 

This is some actual concern from his Alpha, and it’s new. It’s not like his Mom isn’t usually concerned about his well-being, but this feels different. This feels like it’s not about Kate or how about he’s still single at twenty-seven, or about how she doesn’t think he’s living up to his full potential. This is what he imagines it looks like when a parent is worried about their kid getting sick - and that’s not something that happens with wolves. 

“Is there a string around your heart?” The question she asks is nonsensical. 

“What does that even mean?” Derek has to ask. 

None of what she is saying makes sense, which means that this is probably a wolf legend that he has never heard of until now. His Mom is so very aware of their culture and their history, and she always comes up with a story to explain whatever is going on with their family. With one very memorable exception that he really doesn’t want to think about anymore. But with her concern, he is starting to worry that this is something serious. 

“Some wolves don’t meet their partners normally,” she starts, and that is not where Derek thought this was going. “They are tied to them, and when they’re ready, when they’re both ready… The knot gets tied on the string, and they’re pulled towards each other. Sometimes it’s a physical pull, sometimes it’s emotional. It doesn’t stop until you find each other.” 

It probably should be scary, but it just feels… safe. It feels soothing, like he just has to relax and give into it. Like for once, he doesn’t have to fight and struggle - like maybe this won’t have to be hard. Like maybe it gets to be easy again, like it was when he was a kid playing pirates. 

“And you think Stiles?” Derek can’t seem to finish the question. 

“I think you’re going to find him again,” she promises. “Somewhere, somehow, you’ll find him again. Keep your eyes open, and follow your heart, and he just might find you.” 

Derek looks at the picture again, and just hopes, even though he hardly understands why. 

* * *

Talia Hale is never wrong. 

It takes three days, during which the pull in Derek’s chest just seems to get stronger. He is halfway tempted to just get into a car and drive in the direction it seems to want to direct him to, but his boss would probably actually kill him if he just disappeared. He’s an EMT, which means working the weirdest hours and using his secret wolf powers (Laura’s words, naturally) to ease people’s pain until they get to a hospital. But it also means that he cannot just bail just because he knows he’ll find his soulmate, his mate, at some point. 

Which is now. He can feel it. The pull is so insistent, and there is a hint of a scent in his nose that seems so damn familiar - because there are still traces of it on the letters he hoards. 

“Stiles, are you sure you’re okay?” A strange voice saying a very familiar name. “You’re still having the squeezes around your heart? I know I work with animals instead of humans, but that does not sound healthy, like, at all. We only just got here, and I still don’t know why we’re here.”

Talia Hale certainly did not have a lot to say about human mates, and how much of the feeling would translate for them. She’d mostly heard of this happening with a pair of wolves, and the occasional Druid - nothing has ever been recorded about completely human mates. Derek wonders if Stiles perhaps has magic of some kind - he doesn’t smell like a wolf, though he smells like he has been spending time with a couple of other wolves. 

“My heart’s just a bit weird,” Stiles shrugs. 

“I’m an EMT,” Derek rushes over, without even introducing himself. “I just happened to overhear your conversation with your friend? Is there anything I can do?”

It is awkward, because he probably wasn’t within regular human hearing distance when he overheard the conversation. But Stiles knows about wolves - has for ages - and this new friend of his is probably part of his pack, even if he might not be a wolf. Though Derek can scent a wolf somewhere around - he is just too focused on Stiles to consider that for too long. 

“You’re here,” Stiles gapes at him, and then just grabs him. “Don’t go.”

Is that Stiles recognizing him right away? It makes Derek want to puff up his chest and preen, because his mate would know him anywhere. Stiles immediately knows that Derek can help him, can make things so much better for him - that he can make the pain stop. 

“Stiles, what the hell?” The friend - a wolf, Derek is sure of that now- is none too amused. 

“He found me, I’m fine now,” Stiles nods at his friend. “The squeezing is gone. I’m good.”

Stiles is a limpet, wrapping basically all of his limbs around Derek and just clinging. He just trusts Derek to keep him upright, and Derek would never do anything to wreck that trust, even though the Stiles he remembers would just laugh when Derek pretended to drop him. But he can’t expect this Stiles to remember all of the details Derek does. 

This Stiles is new and different and so tall - almost as tall as Derek - and he smells amazing now that the scent of pain is gone from him. The eyes are the same, he can tell that much even when Stiles’ head is mostly hidden in Derek’s neck. And that’s another thing, because of course Stiles knows what the neck means to a werewolf, how that’s a weak spot only a few people are permitted to access. Stiles has always known that he is one of the few when it comes to Derek. 

“Because he’s a werewolf, Stiles,” the friend sighs. 

“Duh,” Stiles is not surprised, because of course he isn’t. “I know that. I can feel it. He’s super good at the whole control thing. He’d never hurt me.”

He can feel all of that from a fresh mate bond? That is extraordinary! 

Clearly Stiles is more in touch with his feelings than Derek is, because all he’s getting is static, with hints of softness and warmth and safety. At least the feelings are positive - Derek had been a little worried that Stiles wouldn’t want to talk to him seeing as it was his fault that their friendship imploded all those years ago. That doesn’t seem to be the case, though Stiles appears to be going through somewhat of a mating high - if that is even a thing. 

“Who the hell is this guy?” The friend is just not letting this go. 

“Derek,” he finally mutters, too focused on Stiles to talk too much. “Hale pack.”

The wolf should know about the local packs, and even if he and Stiles had moved here from much further away, the Hale pack has quite the reputation across all of North-America. And indeed, the other wolf seems to settle a little as he hears the name of his pack - but it’s Stiles’ response that is of the most interest to him. 

“Der-Bear,” Stiles pulls back and looks at him, delight written all over his face. “Of course it’s you! I knew those eyebrows looked familiar, but you didn’t show me those adorable bunny teeth - if you still have those. Guess you do look different without the eye patch. And you’re all grown and buff and growly. That’s a good look for you. I like that journey for you.”

Derek would relax into Stiles’ hold - except the nameless friend is still here and he is not happy with any of the current goings-on. Derek can basically smell it, and Stiles should be able to sense it even with his relatively dull human senses. The disapproval is palpable, and Derek would say something, but he doesn’t even know this guy’s name, and he’s pretty sure the last thing the friend wants is to hear from Derek. His friend’s new mate. 

Mate - Derek just needs to leave his mark on his mate. 

“This is Derek?” The friend just has to keep interrupting. 

“Damn right, Scotty,” Stiles is practically gloating, letting Derek rub his face into his neck. “Isn’t he great? I know he doesn’t really look like his pictures anymore, but honestly, I don’t either.”

Derek scoffs, because Stiles hasn’t changed one bit. Sure, he’s gotten taller, and he’s grown out his hair, but he is instantly recognizable as the boy in the pirate costume. The eyes haven’t changed, and the scent hasn’t, and the impish grin is exactly the same - he’d have recognized Stiles anywhere. Even if he’d been human. He just knows it. 

“You’re right,” Scott turns to Derek. “He just doesn’t change. It’s like magic.”

That gets Stiles’ attention, leaving Derek to be reluctantly forced out of the safe space he’s managed to create in the graceful curve of Stiles’ neck. Stiles is too passionate about whatever response he just has to give Scott. Derek can’t imagine him being pleased. 

“I’m not Harry Potter, Scott,” Stiles sighs, seemingly repeating an old argument. 

“Oh you can dig the attached werewolf out of your neck for that?” Scott is determined to make it into a fight apparently. “Look, I get that you used to be best friends when you were a kid, but you don’t actually know him now. And you were in pain until he got here, and that’s not the kind of thing I just trust. We need to talk to Satomi about this.” 

So clearly Stiles already has a pack, and they are not going to let him go so easily - even though it’s Satomi, and she is one of his Mom’s strongest allies. This Scott guy has clearly replaced him, even if that’s just for now and Derek knows he can get Stiles back on his side again. Without involving their fledgling mate bond, because that would not be fair. Stiles has to choose him without the bond interfering. If that’s even possible. 

“Mates,” Derek says, because he really doesn’t have the patience to let Stiles get away from him for too long. “You can tell Satomi it’s about mates. And that Alpha Hale’s son sends his regards. She’ll know what you’re talking about. If you don’t trust me, she can explain.” 

Of course Scott takes notice of him being the Alpha’s son. Derek doesn’t usually take advantage of his position within one of the most powerful packs in the country, but sometimes it really helps to be the current Alpha’s only son and the future Alpha’s twin brother. It makes other wolves more likely to trust him, and he really needs Scott to trust him with Stiles. 

“Sounds good,” Scott nods solemnly. “Stiles, let’s go now.” 

In response, Stiles starts clinging to Derek, clinging to him very tightly. Derek doesn’t exactly object to that, because he feels just as needy as Stiles at this point. The idea of letting Stiles go again, with no guarantees that he will ever see him again - it seems impossible. Sure, there won’t be any pain, and the pull won’t be as insistent (though it will probably get worse again over time) - but nothing says that Stiles  _ has _ to be his mate. There are options, ways to get rid of the bond - more easily done for humans. And Stiles is very, very human. 

“Nuh-uh,” Stiles shakes his head too vigorously for Derek to get too close to him. “I’m finally pain free again, I’ve got my Derek-shaped cuddle buddy wrapped around me, and my childhood best friend all in the same package… I’m so good that I may never move from this spot again. Well, okay, maybe I’ll move eventually, but only if Der-Bear leaves with me.” 

Derek does not like hearing about Stiles actually being in pain while away from him - he has been relying on the assumption that it is merely a pull in each other’s direction. He never wants to hurt Stiles again - because he knows that he’s already done so in the past. 

“Stiles,” Scott is overruling the decision, apparently. 

“Stiles,” Derek knows that Scott is not getting anywhere with Stiles, not like this. “I don’t want to let go of you, but we can’t stay here together like this.” 

It is stupidly sensible, and while Derek is in possession of a decent set of brains, all sensibility has gone out the window since he’s been back with Stiles. So it’s surprising that he’s actually come up with a response that isn’t a flat-out denial of the rest of the world. 

“You’re going to call me,” Stiles huffs, still completely focused on Derek. “I’m going to give you my number and we’re going to make sure it works before I leave. And you can’t bail on me.” 

Derek cannot disagree. He owes him that much. 

* * *

Stiles hadn’t called. It had been three days and Stiles hadn’t called or texted or… He’d heard nothing at all from him, and it stung. Derek had called, and texted, and left a voicemail or two, just to make sure that Stiles had the opportunity to reach out. And he didn’t, and that sucked. 

Not because of any kind of actual magical powers, of that mate bond pulling at them, but because he thought that Stiles had been happy to see him. He’d thought that Stiles had been dying to see him again - Stiles hadn’t wanted to let him go at first. But that was probably just the mate bond, just the magic of their connection working on them. 

“There’s someone here to see you,” Talia Hale draws him from his thoughts. “If you can tear yourself away from that picture, you might actually talk to him a little bit.” 

So he’s been spending most of his time at his parents’ house, even though he technically has a place of his own about half a mile further into the forest. Because it is easier when he is around his pack, instead of just staring out of the window while the fledgling mate bond yells and screams at him to just go see his mate. That his mate is the solution here. That Stiles is going to make it all better, just by existing in the same vicinity as Derek. 

But Stiles doesn’t want to make anything better. He doesn’t want to contact Derek anymore, even though he’d been so very insistent when they first saw each other. 

Clearly that had just been a version of the mating high. Derek has done his research. 

“Who is it?” Derek asks, even though he kind of already knew. 

He could feel it. The pull is back, more vicious than before. 

So he lets himself be moved by it, steps away from the picture in the living room and stepped into the hallway to see the real thing. To see Stiles. His Stiles. 

“Stiles?” Derek steps closer, only to be motioned to a stop. 

Stiles’ flailing is still the same, apparently. That much hasn’t changed. Derek is kind of delighted to see it. It has always been one of Stiles’ most adorable traits, and it is so nice to see that Stiles hasn’t grown out of it in the many years that have passed. He’s probably been teased about it a lot, but somehow he hasn’t gotten it trained out of him. 

Because Stiles is an individual. He is unlike anyone Derek had ever met. 

“Don’t move,” Stiles sounds exhausted. 

“You’re here,” Derek is very aware that he sounds like an idiot, thanks. 

It was just that Stiles is here, actually here at his parents’ house, standing in front of him with that weirdly apprehensive look on his expressive face. It is that he finally has the chance to take it all in without Stiles being positively plastered to his body (because while that is a distraction he would be glad to repeat, it is still a distraction). He gets to look at the flannel shirt and the baggy pants and the deceptively strong forearms and the familiar pattern of moles that he’d recognize anywhere. He gets to stand there and look and worry. 

“As you can see,” Stiles actually does a jazz hands type gesture before continuing with his typical flair. “I’m here and I have questions. A lot of them. An infinite amount, really” 

Derek is not surprised. He is only surprised that Stiles hasn’t just started asking his questions without waiting for permission. He has never needed permission before - not with Derek, not ever. Because Derek is always going to do the best he could to answer him. 

“Anything,” Derek says, and then repeats it again. “Anything. It’s you, Stiles. Anything.” 

To anyone else, that would probably be coming on too strong, but this is Stiles. He knows just about every embarrassing childhood detail about Derek. And maybe he’s missed most of the years in between, but that doesn’t mean that Derek isn’t still willing to bend over backwards to give him everything that he could possibly want. Because this is his best friend. Still. 

He hasn’t had another friend like Stiles. Not ever. It just isn’t possible. 

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles sighs almost fondly. “Pipe down, idiot. It’s been years. Apparently you actually did miss me all that time, which is nice. But I honestly would have preferred it if you’d even tried to talk to me even once. Instead of just leaving it all up to that special wolfy magic.” 

Wait, what is happening? Why doesn’t Stiles hate him? Why isn’t he furious? 

Instead he sounds far too fond, like he is basically letting Derek off the hook after this conversation, and after the three days he’s spent worrying about Stiles. He sounds like he did when they were kids, when Derek far too easily took the blame for some shenanigans just to keep Stiles out of trouble. And Stiles flipped far too easily just because he didn’t think it was fair for Derek to get into trouble for something they’d cooked up together. Or well, more accurately, something that had been Stiles’ idea and Derek had reluctantly agreed to. 

Only this time it had been Derek who’d fucked up.

“That’s just disrespectful,” Derek shakes his head mockingly, just to fuck with Stiles. 

“You love that about me,” Stiles sounds so sure of that, so sure of Derek. “I still haven’t figured out why you would, but I can totally work with that. Don’t get me wrong, I am totally happy you do, but it’s just weird, Der. Care wolf. Oh my God, I’d almost forgotten about that one.” 

The nickname is old and extremely embarrassing, something he’d bribed Stiles into hiding from his family (but especially from Laura and Peter). And he’d managed, somehow, but apparently the old rules no longer apply for childhood secrets. But Derek would gladly let himself get mocked about it for all eternity if it meant that Stiles was with him. 

Even though he refuses to believe that he resembled a Care Bear in any way. 

“You’re a terror,” Derek knows he has to be blushing. 

“Aw, you do still blush like that,” Stiles is far too delighted to be tormenting him again. “I mean, you grew into the ears and the brows, but you kept the blush. It still really works for you, by the way. In more ways than I ever could have imagined as a kid. Like, wow did I not know about the blushing and the chin dip being your ‘do me’ look. I should have appreciated it more.” 

That is a lot. A lot of words, and a lot of meaning infused into those words - and a lot of feelings that Stiles is avoiding talking about. A lot of the same feelings that Derek has tried to keep a lid on. Almost as if Stiles knows exactly what Derek means with all of it. 

“You’re reading my mind now?” Derek knows that he wouldn’t be able to lie to Stiles. “You used to be pretty good at it, but this is just uncanny.”

It isn’t new, though. Even as a kid, Stiles had been very good at reading him, claiming that he could tell from Derek’s eyebrows or the way he blushed or even just because he knew Derek far too well and knew how Derek would feel about something. Stiles was - and is - stupidly empathetic, at least when it came to the people he loved - at least when it comes to Derek. 

“Well, with the mate bond,” Stiles shrugs. 

“You can feel it?” Derek steps closer, because he can’t not do it. “Humans can’t do that.” 

Stiles doesn’t move to stop him, even though Derek makes sure to telegraph his movements to give him an opportunity to do so. So Derek is actually allowed to get closer now, when Stiles had been insistent on them keeping at a distance before. Something has changed.

“First of all, rude,” Stiles is grinning the smug grin that he’d apparently perfected by now. “I am very human still, and I think your world views are very limiting. Some humans are totally able to feel the bond in all of its ridiculous detail. I can tell how impressed you are by me right now, and it’s kind of doing it for me. I know, my ego’s crazy. All your fault. You believed in me.” 

As usual, Stiles really does not have a filter, and it is everything Derek has been missing in his boring life. He’s been missing not knowing where a conversation would end up, even with all his senses, because Stiles’ mind can’t be understood by anyone but Stiles. No matter how much Derek tried, and still tries, all he can do is try and keep up. Predicting Stiles would have been a whole new level, something not even Stiles’ Dad had been able to do. Or his Mom. 

Though Claudia certainly got the closest. 

But the idea of Stiles knowing exactly what Derek is feeling? It is scary, because Derek is pretty sure his feelings are not going to be welcomed with open arms. 

“No privacy,” Derek makes sure he isn’t looking at Stiles for this part. 

“It’s only fair,” Stiles sounds like he is gloating again. “I wouldn’t have had any privacy regardless of the bond, because of you and your special wolf powers. This is leveling the playing field, Care Wolf. Care Der. Mate bonds are all about balance, aren’t they?” 

Maybe Stiles has a point there - not that Derek is willing to admit that. Derek would have had far too many advantages if Stiles hadn’t been able to feel the bond so well. This levels the playing field in a way that is terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Because Stiles is right, the mate bond is supposed to revolve around being equals and partners. 

It is about finding your other half. Exactly half. 

“You’ve been doing some reading,” Derek manages to read between the lines. 

“Of course,” Stiles iss moving closer now. “What did you expect? Why else would I have made you wait for three whole days? Because I wanted to torture you a little? Well, maybe.” 

There it is. Derek has almost been holding his breath waiting for Stiles to get pissed at him about abandoning their friendship. It has been years, a decade and change, but Derek hasn't been able to forgive himself. It stands to reason that Stiles hasn’t either. 

“I deserve it,” Derek nods. 

“Ever the martyr,” Stiles sighs. “You were a dumb kid, Der. Of course you weren’t going to be perfect. But you didn’t give up on me. It was surprisingly annoying at times.” 

How would he know? How does he know that Derek had regretted it and tried to find Stiles in every way that he could? How does he know that Derek had looked for every Stiles (not Styles, but Stiles) and Mieczyslaw in every database he could get his hands on? How does Stiles know about that? And why would he call it annoying? 

“What,” Derek forgets about inflection. 

“Still having a problem with making questions sound like questions?” Stiles teases him. “I knew you were looking for me. But I was pissed at you, and I wasn’t going to let you find me. And then there was some weird stuff with a Nogitsune that I really didn’t want you to get involved in, and by the time things had gotten back to normal, well… I wanted to come back on my terms.” 

So there is a reason Derek hasn’t been able to find anything? Stiles has been staying away on purpose - he hadn’t wanted to be found by Derek. Or by anyone? Or just by Derek? 

The mention of the Nogitsune is what truly worried him. Derek has been studying the supernatural for years, and he’s heard disturbing tales of the treacherous chaotic spirit that enjoys murderous rampages and riddles and possessing innocents who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s heard the stories from Oregon, from a few years ago, when the evil spirit had popped up out of nowhere to take vengeance on a kitsune, possessing an innocent… Stiles? Oh fuck, it had been Stiles. 

“Are you okay?” Derek reaches for Stiles then, trying to check for any damage. 

“I’m fine,” Stiles starts, and then corrects himself. “I’m fine now, anyway. I wasn’t fine for a while there, and I wouldn’t have been a very good mate to you. My magic was out of control, and there were some left-over powers that I needed to get a handle on, but I’m good now.” 

Stiles has some kind of powers now. Of course he does. Why is Derek not surprised that Stiles has managed to make himself even more special than he’d been as a kid? Sure, he hadn’t been lying when he’d called himself a human, but he also hadn’t been telling Derek the entire story - even now he is holding something back. But he’d reveal it, soon. He wants to. 

“Powers?” Stiles nudges him. “That’s what you were supposed to say. Out loud. Not just with your ridiculous brows of sass. But fine. I’m still pretty much fluent. I’ll answer that unspoken question of yours, you impatient asshole. I have some powers. Mostly low level Spark stuff, but sometimes a bit of Oni level knowledge pops up at weird times. I’ve pretty much got a handle on it, and it’s usually helpful with whatever creature we’re fighting, so… It’s all good.” 

He’s finished cataloguing any invisible injuries on Stiles’ body - finding only a few small scratches that have undoubtedly been caused by Stiles’ typical clumsiness. Because of course that wouldn’t have changed one bit. Stiles is never going to be described as graceful.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Derek is happy to let Stiles check him over in turn. 

Though Stiles’ inspection doesn’t seem nearly as… clinical and professional as Derek’s has been. 

“Dumbass,” Stiles smacks him on the back of the head, and then continues with his inspection of every part of Derek’s body. “I didn’t want you there. I mean, I always want you here with me, but I wasn’t ready to want you there, and I certainly didn’t want to be the reason you got hurt. If I stayed away from you, that thing wouldn’t hurt you. Because it thought we weren’t close.” 

The words are serious, and come straight from the heart, even though Stiles is using his inspection as an excuse to grab at Derek’s ass at the same time. Because this is just the adult version of Stiles playing with Derek’s claws and touching his fangs just to see how sharp they got (very sharp, sharp enough to prick Stiles’ fingertip). This is Stiles making it very clear to Derek - and to anyone who would scent him later - that Derek has been claimed. 

“We’re certainly close now,” Derek chuckles. “Copped enough of a feel? I’d be happy to take you to my place later so that you can do the full analysis without clothes getting in the way.” 

It is stupidly easy, stupidly natural to make that proposition. It is easy to let Stiles put his hands all over him and let himself be covered in the metaphorical ‘Property of Stiles Stilinski’ stamp. They’d been kids before, but Derek is pretty sure that even if they’d never spent any time apart, they still would have gotten to this point. Perhaps they would have gotten there a bit sooner, or even a bit later, but he knew they would have reached the pinnacle eventually. 

Because that is what being mates means - every version of Derek loves every version of Stiles, and vice versa. They would always have ended up here. 

Well, maybe not at Derek’s parents’ house, but Stiles would have always made a move, and Derek always would have let him. Wholeheartedly encouraged him, even. Because it is  _ Stiles _ , and Derek can’t imagine loving anyone else the way he loves him. 

“I’m disappointed you didn’t go for a booty joke,” Stiles shakes his head mockingly. 

“We can’t all be as obsessed with pirates as you were,” Derek returns. “Is that the kind of roleplay you’d be into? Because I don’t think my costume still fits.” 

At first, he’d dressed up as a pirate for Halloween still, because it was tradition. He’d stopped because it was embarrassing, and because it wasn’t nearly as fun without his best friend by his side. But he hasn’t put on the costume in years, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter, and that he didn’t learn how to fence in college because he wanted to be able to show off in front of Stiles one day. As for the roleplay, well… Only Stiles would be able to convince him to do that. 

For Stiles, he’d buy whatever costume, just to make him smile. Because Stiles doesn’t want him to be anyone but himself, even though seeing Derek in crazy costumes would probably still amuse him just as much as it had when they were just stupid kids. Or, well, when Stiles was a stupid kid and Derek was a slightly less stupid pre-teen. 

“Of course this is still easy,” Stiles stops briefly, and just looks at him. “I thought it was going to be weird, that we weren’t going to have anything to say to each other, or that we weren’t going to have anything in common anymore. I thought you’d gotten all serious and grown up.” 

Maybe a little. Maybe without Stiles, Derek hasn’t been as lighthearted and witty and fun. And he’s always been the more serious one out of the two of them - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to let go of that seriousness from time to time. Stiles has always brought out his mischievous side, and apparently that hasn’t changed. That  _ wouldn’t _ change. 

Derek isn’t going to let it. 

“Never,” Derek laughs. “We wouldn’t be any good as mates if I had.” 

He can feel the warmth of Stiles’ presence through the bond, and can feel his mate’s happiness at Derek’s easy acceptance of it. Because this gets to be easy, because they get to do this together with as much joy and ease as they’d had when playing pirates as kids. Because they don’t have to have doubts about their feelings due to their bond. And also because they know each other far too well to have doubts about what they mean to each other. 

“We are good,” Stiles has already decided that. “We’re going to be great at this.” 

Derek just has to kiss him. 

* * *

There are two pictures standing side by side on the dresser in the living room of the Hale house. Both pictures have the same pair of pirates in them, just fifteen or so years apart. 

The first picture is old, two young boys standing side by side. One of the boys is small and skinny and freckled, the other is taller and broader, with heavy eyebrows that don’t quite fit his face yet (but that he’ll eventually manage to grow into - just like he does with those ears). They are both grinning in the picture, but it is hard to tell exactly what they’re looking at, as both boys wear eye-patches and are dressed head to toe in cheap party store pirate gear. The swords they both carry are blunt and obviously fake (fortunately), but the happiness is real. 

The second picture is recent, two men wrapped around each other in adult pirate costumes that look cheap and store bought. One of the men is lanky and has freckles and moles on his pale skin, while the other is broad and his olive skin is dusted with dark hair. They are both grinning in the picture - the lanky man more so than his companion. The dark haired man looks at his companion with fond exasperation as his plastic sword appears to be nudging a potted plant that threatens to fall to the floor. Anyone can see how in love they are. 

“Ugh, gross,” Laura Hale mutters as her mother straightens the second picture yet again. “I mean, I don’t want to kinkshame them, but do we really have to keep the evidence?” 

Ah yes, apparently it is only funny to tease her twin when he is single and pining. Now that he is happy, her stubborn daughter hadn’t been able to get to him as much - not without being teased in return. Not without Talia hearing far too many details of just what Laura and her Jordan have been getting up to at the station. John Stilinski’s the new Sheriff, and he’s been good at making Jordan do the actual work instead of letting him get distracted by Laura. 

Her poor baby is having some trouble adjusting. She’ll get there eventually. 

“My dear niece,” Peter just has to get his two cents in. “Just because you and your husband keep it strictly vanilla, with the exception of a bad cop fantasy, doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to suffer because of your lack of imagination. Though eyepatches and wooden legs aren’t particularly interesting to me, doesn’t mean your brother and his… partner don’t enjoy it very much. Biblically. The Stilinski boy is attractive enough to make that horrid costume work.” 

Laura makes a face at that. Or several. 

Talia Hale laughs, and promises herself that the next addition to the dresser is going to be an embarrassing childhood picture of her baby brother and his former best friend. Apparently Stiles’ powers have benefits most people couldn’t even consider. 

Perhaps she can get lucky with the picture gambit twice. She is pretty sure that Christopher isn’t seeing anyone. 


End file.
